


like poison coursing through me

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon Universe, Coming In Pants, Consensual Kink, Daddy Kink, Daddy Louis, Desperate Harry, Desperation, Desperation Play, Dirty Talk, Dom Louis, Dom/sub, Dom/sub Play, Dom/sub Undertones, Drabble, Dry Humping, Frottage, I love writing in canon it's a nice change from my au's, Kink Discovery, Kink Negotiation, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Masturbation, Omorashi, One Shot, PWP, Pain, Pain Kink, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Short One Shot, Smut, Sub Harry, Watersports, Wetting, brief mention of - Freeform, can you spot all the canon references? there are so fucking many, louis has such a dirty mouth in all of my fics, so much dirty talk jesus christ
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-25 23:00:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12046101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Louis loves it when Harry's desperate.Or, the one with copious dirty talk, Daddy Louis, and Harry wetting himself in the shower.





	like poison coursing through me

**Author's Note:**

> hello, friends! welcome to another fic! I got a request to write a bit of canon-compliant desperation play/watersports, so here it is! I was going to publish this after I finish my A/B/O fic, but I had this all written so I figured I'd just post it. thanks to the lovely person who requested this, I hope you like it! :-) lots of desperate/subby Harry and Daddy Louis, as per usual. enjoy!

“Piss.”

Louis brings it up one early morning while they’re lying in bed. His voice is thick with jet lag and something else - something that sounds almost like nerves, like he’s a little scared to talk about this. It’s a rare day off from tour, and the fans have noticed he and Harry are MIA, like they always do.

Harry’s snuggled up into Louis’ side, still wearing his clothes from last night. “Elaborate?” He asks, yawning and stretching a little.

Louis shrugs. “I dunno what exactly it is. I just...I like seeing you get...y’know. Desperate.”

Harry hums, considering the idea. “I like being desperate for you.”

Louis scratches his scalp lightly and Harry practically purrs, cuddling even closer.

“So - what, you want me to, like...piss myself?”

Louis doesn’t speak for a minute, and Harry can tell he’s sort of embarrassed - his face is all flushed. “Um...Yeah. I guess I do want that? It’s not - it’s not _just_ that, though. I get off on the...the way you have to, like...hold it in for a long time. When you get all…”

“Desperate,” Harry finishes for him. Louis sits up a little, putting his hand on Harry’s cheek. There are dark circles under his eyes and his hair is sticking up every which way, but he still looks absolutely gorgeous.

“I don’t want you to do it if you feel even a tiny bit uncomfortable, H.” His voice is serious and his expression is concerned.

Harry nuzzles into his hand. “ _Please_ , Lou. You weren’t weirded out when I was 16 and asked to call you Daddy. Least I can do is try it.” He twists his head and kisses Louis’ palm.

Louis still looks a little concerned. “I don’t want you to do it just for me, honey. You don’t have to do it if it’s, like, weird to you.”

Harry sits up too, his joints creaking a bit. “No,” He starts, thinking this through. “Dunno. I think there might be something there for me, too.”

Louis cocks his head to the side. “You think so?”

Harry nods, touching his chin thoughtfully. “Yeah. But I think I want to try it, like, by myself first. Holding it in, I mean. Just to see how it makes me feel. Then we can talk about it after?”

Louis takes his hand in his and brings it to his lips, kissing his fingers. “I love you.”

Harry pats his knee softly. “Love you back.”

* * *

The first time Harry tries it is sort of by accident. They’re playing their second night at an arena in Ohio, a state that’s apparently only known for having lots and lots of cornfields. The show’s going well so far - lots of fans are representing Rainbow Direction, wearing colorful flags and rainbow bracelets. Harry tries to acknowledge as many as he can without drawing attention to himself; he gives their posters a thumbs-up and grins widely at “Larry” written on one fan’s forehead.

He’s sneakily watching Louis sing his solo in Little Things on the big screen when he realizes he’s already finished his second bottle of water for the night. He hands the empty bottle to a security person off the catwalk and waits until the end of the song, knowing Louis will notice he’s out of water and grab him a new one. Sure enough - by the start of the next song, there’s a fresh bottle of water resting at the usual place on the left ramp of the stage.

Harry prances over to it and gratefully gulps it down, humming happily as it soothes his sore throat - a remnant of last night, when Louis had tied his hands behind his back and fucked his mouth until he cried. God, that was a good night...

Harry catches Louis’ eye as he drinks his water, lips wrapped full and pink around the bottle; there’s a ghost of a smirk on Louis’ face when he looks away. The night goes along smoothly enough after that - just like any other show. Harry pokes fun at several dads in the audiences and dodges a teddy bear that's tossed onto the stage.

Normally he’d go grab it, save it for security, but he and Louis are having quite a bit of fun dressing their new rainbow bear in bondage gear. They sort of have their hands full.

A fan's sign catches Harry’s eye in the second row, just in front of the B stage. “I EAT MY BROCCOLI FOR YOU, HARRY” it reads in green and black letters. He flashes the fan a thumbs-up, starting to giggle a little until - oh, fuck, no, _no._ Thank god his muscles tighten before it gets any worse, but there’s definitely a spot of wet heat at the front of his briefs. The water’s already catching up to him, making his bladder heavy and full.

He thinks through the setlist; only four more songs to go until the encore - he can certainly wait until then to use the toilet. He tries to avoid drinking more water so that the problem doesn’t get worse, but his voice cracks on a note in Ready To Run and he's forced to go back to gulping it down.

He’s halfway through his fourth bottle of the night, two songs away from the encore, and there’s sweat beading at his hairline. It kind of hurts, honestly - having to wee this badly. Not that he minds, he's always had a bit of a thing for pain. There’s a heavy pressure through his hips that he doesn’t really think is _un_ comfortable, but it’s a little hard to focus on the feeling when he’s performing for thousands of people. He breaks into a skip down the catwalk to distract himself, prancing around and feeling lovely and pretty.

Then it happens again. This time, there’s definitely a thin stream snaking its way down his leg, making the seam of his jeans wet. His muscles tighten reflexively, but they don’t stop the flow entirely. Thank god he’s not in the middle of a song, because he has to turn around and race up the ramps toward backstage.

He’s struggling to hold it in, little drips soaking into his briefs as he runs, and there’s a terrible moment where he can’t find a place to set his microphone before he just balances it on the corner of a platform and rushes to the toilets backstage. He practically whites out when he finally goes, it feels so bloody good. Pours out of him for what feels like hours.

He can hear Liam’s voice onstage, muffled and echoing through the arena. “Where’s Harry gone?” Then, Niall’s voice. “Where’s _Louis_?”

Harry’s eyes flash open, and he goes to hurriedly tuck himself back into his jeans when he feels Louis’ hand on his arm. “What’s the matter, love? Sick?”

Harry sighs as he gingerly zips his jeans up. “Lou, we’ll get in trouble if we’re both back here together.”

Louis scoffs, rubbing at his shoulder a little. “Fuck that. Needed to make sure you were okay.”

Harry leans into his touch, still breathing hard. “Yeah - ‘m fine. Just really, _really_ had to wee.”

Louis quirks an eyebrow. “You didn’t tell me you were going to...y’know. Try it today.”

Harry shrugs. “Didn’t mean to, it just sort of happened.”

Liam and Niall are starting to sound a bit lost onstage, so Louis nods back in the direction of the arena. “C’mon. We’ll talk later, yeah?”

Harry smiles and pats his hand, reveling in the relief of being blissfully empty. “Definitely.”

* * *

It happens a little more than a week later, again without even trying. They’re in Germany today, racing around from interview to interview, dashing back and forth between radio stations and TV sound stages. Harry’s chugging water like it’s his job - he’s so dehydrated from the flight in. It sort of...just happens again, without him planning for it.

They’re in and out of cars all day, not stopping in one place longer than the time it takes to get through an interview. Halfway through the day, he’s staring blearily at Niall’s scuffed shoes in the car on the way to the next interview when he realizes he needs a wee. Badly.

He swallows around the lump in his throat and crosses his legs, trying to focus more on how it feels this time. S’weird - he’s never really _thought_ about this feeling in-depth. Like most people, whenever he recognizes it, he takes care of it as soon as possible and that’s that. There never used to be any reason to linger in the feeling when he could just get rid of it. Now that he’s concentrating on it, though, he’s not finding it all that unpleasant.

He doesn’t have to go that badly, he hasn’t drank _too_ much water yet, but there’s still a tingly sort of heaviness between his legs. It feels...okay. Not really pleasurable, but certainly not bad. Barely even edging on uncomfortable, really.

He considers how it would be as the day goes on, how it might actually feel better with a fuller bladder and more pressure. Honestly, today’s the perfect day to try this properly because he’ll be distracted. He’s not performing in front of 80,000 people this time, so it'll be much easier to gauge how he feels as the day goes in. The interviews will keep his mind off it enough so that he’s not constantly worrying about it, and they won’t really have access to toilets anyway if they’re in cars. He pulls out his mobile and composes a text to Louis.

H: _Think_ _I’m gonna try it again today. The wee thing._

Louis texts back a second later.

L: _today_ _? u sure ? a bit busy arent we x_

H: _Keeps my mind off having to go_

L: _u_ _dont have to keep it up if it makes u feel uncomfortable love xx_

H: _I know. .x Love you._

L: _love you xxxxx_

He locks his phone and leans against the window, the cool glass against his cheek a welcome distraction from the growing heaviness in his belly.

* * *

By the time they’re done with the next two interviews, Harry’s practically dying. He’s had two tall glasses of water because they got put directly in front of him at the radio station, and he sipped them subconsciously whenever he wasn’t answering a question.

It’s been okay while he’s sitting down - he can keep his legs crossed at least. When he stands up to shake the host’s hand, though, he lurches forward because a drop of wee forms at the head of his cock. It stops immediately, of course, leaving no more than a damp spot in his briefs. Still, his cheeks are flushed red. Louis' brow furrows across the room when he sees it, and his expression is concerned. "You good?" He mouths so that no one will see. Harry quickly nods, giving him a little smile to reassure him.

As they make their way back to the car, he realizes it’s starting to hurt - more than it did the other day onstage. He thinks through it, and realizes he’s definitely had a _lot_ more water this time. Louis falls into step next to him in the hallway, where no one’s around to see besides the other boys and their security.

“Hi,” He murmurs. 

“Hi,” Harry breathes back.

“Still good?” Louis asks, biting his lip as he takes in Harry’s flushed face. “You look a little…” He glances quickly down to Harry’s crotch then back up to his eyes. “You’re blushing, love.”

Harry reddens even more. “Sorry. Just - it’s starting to hurt a little, and - well, you know how I...how I like the pain. Trying not to make it...obvious.” He brushes his fingers self-consciously over his crotch, where he's struggling to not get hard.

Louis reaches over and squeezes his upper arm reassuringly. “You don’t have to do this, angel. Don’t want to force you to do anything.”

Harry shakes his head wildly. “I _want_ to do this.”

Louis exhales, long and slow like he's calming himself down. "Jesus, Haz. You're so hot. Wish I could show you how much I love you - how much I love this." He flicks his gaze down to his own crotch. 

"I know. Me, too," Harry mutters back. What he wouldn't give for an empty schedule and a quiet hotel room right about now.

Louis gives him a small smile before he’s quickly dropping his hand and stepping away, moving next to Liam because they're about to leave the building. Security opens the door and the familiar screams of fans fills their ears as they make their way to the car.

* * *

If Harry thought he was dying earlier, that’s no comparison to what he’s feeling now. The traffic was hell between the last radio station and their hotel - mostly because their cars were mobbed, and they had to move ridiculously slowly for everyone's safety. Harry would of course want nothing more than to keep everyone safe and happy, but the car ride was admittedly a struggle. Bouncing his leg only did so much to keep his mind off things.

He’s _finally_ back in he and Louis' hotel room over two hours later, and it’s agony. It doesn’t just hurt in his hips, it’s spreading to his back and down his legs. He aches with the urge, bladder heavy and pressing into his abdomen. What’s worse is that the pain has his cock fully hard against his hip. He’s unbelievably glad he’s away from the public like this, because it'd be impossible to hide how much he's into this.

Louis is down doing fan service in the parking lot, and Harry’s absolutely praying he’ll be upstairs soon. He doesn’t think he can hold on much longer, but he desperately wants to wait for Louis. They barely got to talk at the radio station, and Jesus - he's _so_ hard, he just wants to show it off to Louis.

After a few fruitless minutes of distracted, halfhearted unpacking, Harry gives up and flops back onto the king-sized bed, crossing his legs. He immediately shoots back up when another drop of wee wets the front of his briefs. So lying down isn’t going to work.

He tries standing, leaning against the wall to watch the news on TV. That doesn't help either - it’s all in German, so he doesn’t understand a word. He starts to pace instead, walking back and forth. That’s even worse because the movement rubs his cock against the rough material of his jeans. The friction’s _delightful_ , but it’s the last thing he wants right now - needs to wee before he can come.

Fuck, it hurts - it _aches_ , and he just wants to get relief. He gives up on the bedroom and goes into the bathroom, not bothering to turn the light on. Leaning against the cool tile, he surveys his face in the mirror. Christ, he looks wrecked. His cheeks are blushed red, lips pink from biting, pupils totally blown out. He drops his gaze lower, to where his cock is obscenely hard in his jeans.

It’s almost like he should be able to _see_ how much he needs relief - should at least be able to see how heavy and full his bladder is. His appearance doesn’t give him away, though. Looks totally normal on the outside, aside from his facial expression and woefully hard cock.

The tile feels good on his cheek, so he decides it’d feel good on his back and his chest, too. Harry tugs his top off and steps into the shower, thinking the glass will be even cooler than the tile on his sweaty back. It’s definitely not, and from here he can see the reflection of the toilet. Hurts, knowing how close relief is, and he can’t get it.

God, where is Louis?? Doesn’t he know Harry needs him?

He starts to squat down a little, to massage his calf and take his mind off it, but a full stream of wee starts down his leg at the movement. He straightens up immediately. Christ - Jesus Christ, he’s almost wetting himself in a shower in bloody Germany while Louis is down taking selfies with fans.

He moans softly because, fuck, it hurts - but he really, really likes it. The pain, the pressure, the desperation - all of it. As usual, Louis is right about this. Harry exhales slowly, ignoring the way his cock twitches against the dampness in his briefs. Right. He can do this. He’s an adult with self control, he can hold his bloody wee until Louis gets back.

Just then, the shower head decides to drip. A cold drop of water lands right on Harry’s bare shoulder; it snakes its way down his chest and runs over his nipple. Harry full-on moans - he can’t help it, even bucks his hips into the air a little. Tears prick at his eyes because the movement puts even more pressure on his bladder.

“Fuck,” He whines, pitiful and aching. It echoes around the bathroom. “Fuck, fuck, _fuck_.” He’s honest to god gonna lose it - he’s just gonna end up pissing down his legs in the shower. He’ll probably come, too, if it feels the way he thinks it will.

Then there’s a keycard in the door. “H?” Louis calls, probably toeing his shoes off at the entryway.

“‘M here,” Harry moans. His voice is cracked and broken.

Louis appears in the doorway, looking concerned. “Oh, angel. What’s the matter, love?”

Harry shakes his head, turns his hips so he can show Louis how hard he is. The motion sends another drop of wee soaking into his briefs.

“Fuck,” Louis breathes, stepping closer to him. “You still holding it in?”

Harry nods, feeling lost and very, very desperate. Louis wraps his hand around his wrist and steps into the shower next to him. By the time he’s got his hands around Harry’s waist, Harry’s making soft, desperate sounds - little sobs that catch in the back of his throat.

Louis’ voice is soothing. “You can stop, baby, you don’t have to do this for me.” Harry shakes his head wildly, unable to even speak at this point. Louis’ brow furrows. “You...you like this, too?” Harry nods, exhaling shakily. “Oh, fuck - _fuck_ , Harry, that’s so hot,” Louis breathes. “Crying because you want it so bad?” Harry nods again, wincing. “It’s the pain, too - isn’t it? That’s why you’re so hard?” Harry moans softly, a wordless ‘yes’.

With that, Louis pulls his top over his head and chucks it to the floor, pulling Harry closer so they can be skin to skin. It's like he flipped a switch - he goes from soft and concerned to achingly dominant in a matter of seconds. “My good boy, all desperate for me. Desperate and whiny, just for his Daddy. Aren’t you?” Harry whimpers a little and buries his face in Louis’ neck. Louis trails his fingers over the back of his neck. “Shh, shh. S’okay, baby. Gonna make a mess in your tight jeans for me? Hm?”

Harry actually starts full-on crying at his words, at how badly he wants to do just that. The muscles in his legs tense over and over again. He has to go so badly, Jesus - he just can’t _make_ himself. 20-some years of training are proving to be hard to forget.

He makes a soft sound against Louis’ neck. “I _can’t_.”

Louis rubs his upper back. “You’re okay, love. Just let me -” Louis fits a hand between their bodies, settles it experimentally over where Harry’s bladder is heavy and full. Harry sucks in a breath when his fingertips knock against the hard line of his cock. Then, Louis reaches up with his other hand and slightly turns the knob of the shower; a thin lukewarm stream of water drips down onto Harry’s neck. It slides down his back, tracing between his shoulder blades.

Louis presses gently against his belly.

And Harry finally lets go.

It starts slow and cautious, because his body is still panicking and trying to stop it. Warmth spreads over his hip and through his crotch, hot and gradual. He chokes out a moan and pumps his hips up into the feeling before pressing his cock lightly into Louis’ thigh. That’s when he really and truly lets go.

It’s sudden and so _much_ \- it soaks into his briefs, into his jeans, before it starts to run down his legs, down his inner thighs, over the backs of them. It drips off his calves, there’s so much of it. Feels like it takes ages, and he knows he’s getting Louis all wet, too, but the soft moans in the back of Louis’ throat make it clear that he doesn’t mind.

Relief courses through his entire body, a delightful emptiness growing in his belly where it used to be achy and full.

The relief, however, is chased closely by an _“oh, fuck I need to come_ now _”_ that has Harry grinding on Louis’ leg before he’s even done going.

Louis’ voice is in his ear, breathy and wrecked. “Oh, _fuck_ \- Harry, fuck, you’re so hot - Jesus, got me so hard…” He grabs Harry’s hand and presses it to his cock so he can feel that he’s just as hard as Harry.

Harry glances down at their hands, at his soaked jeans and Louis’ wet sweatpants. “ _Lou_ ,” He whimpers, voice small and desperate.

“Yeah, love?”

“Wanna come.” It comes out as more of a sob than a statement.

Louis moves his hands to Harry’s hips and helps him start to rut down onto his thigh. “Here you go, love. Just like this.” Harry cries a bit at the friction, at how good it feels. Louis shushes him, whispering soothing praise into his ear. “God, you’re so wet,” He breathes. “Gonna - fuck, gonna make me come, too.”

Harry rocks his hips down over and over, so desperate and aching. “Lou - Daddy, I - fuck, _Daddy_ -”

Louis wedges his thigh further between his legs, giving him more to grind onto. “So messy, baby, rubbing yourself off on Daddy's thigh. Messy and naughty, aren’t you?” Harry moans softly. “Gonna make your jeans a mess again? Just for me?”

That’s all it takes for Harry to come, pouring hot into his jeans. It spreads through his crotch, making everything even wetter and warmer. “Mm - mm - mm -” He whimpers softly as he comes. Louis helps him grind through it, moving his hips in a sloppy rhythm. Harry feels limp and boneless when he’s done, leaning heavily on Louis.

“Good boy,” Louis murmurs, and his voice is strained. Harry can hear he’s got his hand around his cock, getting himself off too. He’s got his other arm around Harry’s waist, helping to hold him up. “Yeah, yeah, yeah - oh, shit - _fuck_ , Haz -” His hand’s wet and obscene as he goes at it, the sound reverberating around the bathroom. “Can’t believe you did that for me, so good, so fucking good for me - always so good -”

Harry whines softly in his ear, a plaintive “ _Daddy_ ,” that he knows will get Louis off quick. Sure enough, Louis’ rhythm goes sloppy and uneven, hips knocking gently into Harry’s as he fucks his fist.

“Gonna - oh, god, babe - gonna come -” He freezes as he falls apart, painting white ribbons down both of their stomachs. “Oh - holy _fuck_ \- oh, oh, oh -” He whines, working himself through it. Harry grins hazily because, even wrecked and physically spent, he loves hearing Louis come. It’s even better knowing he helped get him there.

They stay still for a few minutes, breathing hard, til their soaked clothes start to get cold and uncomfortable.

Louis’ hands trace patterns onto Harry’s lower back. “Think we might as well just stay here, love,” He murmurs.

Harry nods against his shoulder. “Agreed.”

Louis lifts his chin so he can stare into his eyes. “That was so amazing, H. Honestly. You’re… Christ, you’re amazing. Can’t believe you did that for me.”

Harry shakes his head. “Wasn’t just for you. Fuck - you saw how hard I was. How hard I came, Jesus…” He moans a little at the fresh memory.

Louis grins shyly at him. “You think you might want to try it again sometime?”

Harry nips at his neck, tasting his sweat on his tongue. “Is that even a question?”

Louis rolls his eyes, still smiling, and reaches up to turn the shower on. The warm water washes down over them and Harry hums happily at the sensation, wrapping his arms around Louis’ waist. “Cuddle later?”

Louis kisses his cheek, soft and sweet. “Always.”  

**Author's Note:**

> hi! thanks for reading this far, I hope you enjoyed this! :-) had a lot of fun writing this one! if you have any kinks/prompts/tropes you're interested in having written, please feel free to leave me a comment below. on the horizon is a forthcoming A/B/O fic featuring omega Harry and alpha Louis. there's also a little university a.u. drabble featuring kink discovery, subby harry, and spanking. if either of those works sound interesting to you, keep an eye on my page! :-) both of those are coming very soon, in the next week or so. I'm always working on new things, so stay tuned. also, just to gauge interest, if you're interested in reading a femslash/girl!direction fic (HL), I'd love if you could leave a comment letting me know. I've been thinking about writing one for awhile and might do it if there's any interest. thanks so much for reading! all of you are so sweet and lovely, and your support means the world to me. be nice, be good! :-)
> 
> title: thinking bout you / dua lipa


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